


Drunken Idiots

by stumphclub



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alcohol, Choking, Double Penetration, Gabetrick, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Party, Peterick, Smut, Stumporta, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, good god this is a lot to unpack bear with me lol, my brain really said do that lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stumphclub/pseuds/stumphclub
Summary: AU Circa 2005 Cork Tree release party and there's a surplus of liquor. Pete and Patrick are pretty exclusive, but if Gabe Saporta is involved, everyone knows anything goes.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Gabe Saporta/Patrick Stump, Gabe Saporta/Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz, Gabe Saporta/Pete Wentz, Nate Novarro/Alex Suarez, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz, Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie, Victoria Asher/William Beckett
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26
Collections: Peterick Fic Recs - tumblr list





	Drunken Idiots

**Author's Note:**

> CW: This is EXPLICIT content. The main ship discussed here is Pete Wentz/Patrick Stump/Gabe Saporta. All other ships (Frerard, Suavarro, Rydan, Beckett/Vicky T) are mentions and fluff. 
> 
> Implied drug use with Gerard Way. 
> 
> I honestly don't know what inspired this but we do be out here lmao, hope y'all enjoy :')

In 2005, the boys didn’t have to worry about much. The pop-punk scene was starting to really show face, and Pete Wentz was determined to ride that wave. He and his bandmates had just come from the Cork Tree listening party and were headed to the afterparty to visit with their entourage - friends from MCR and Pete’s newest signees, Panic!, would be there along with the boys from TAI… and a new band called Cobra Starship, who William had promised had potential. Not only was Pete riding the high of what was to be their breakthrough album, he was absolutely using this time to scout new talent. Having sealed the deal with Brendon and Ryan, those little shits, had been a _huge_ feat for Pete and he was feeling lucky with his hand. 

“Aren’t you excited to meet the Cobra boys?” Pete nudged Patrick, smirking. “Maybe we’ll find a plaything.” 

“Pete, not everyone is here for your entertainment,” Patrick reminded him, rolling his eyes and nudging back. 

“But based on what Bill said…” Pete trailed off and then shrugged, amused, “Sounds like they know how to party, at least.” 

“Just what you need,” Patrick muttered under his breath, bracing himself as he followed Pete into the afterparty. 

The onslaught of familiar faces was instant. The Butcher and Ray Toro paused their mingling to grin and wave hello. Gerard Way sauntered up and grasped Pete’s hands, said matter-of-factly, “One for you,” and kissed him on the mouth. He then grabbed Patrick’s hands, repeating, “And one for you,” kissing him on the mouth before he could protest. Patrick raised an eyebrow as Gerard turned to his shadow, Frank, with his smudged eye makeup, and grabbed his cheeks in his palms, exclaiming, “Two for you, Frankie!” and kissing him twice in a row. 

“That’s a new one,” Pete chuckled. Patrick could only imagine what was going on in Gerard’s head. It was a good year for Fall Out Boy--it seemed like they were past the worst of their troubles, for now--but it had been a real rough one for Gerard. 

Patrick vaguely wondered if he should be concerned and maybe, like, intervene, before his attention was stolen by Brendon, the face of Panic! at the Disco. This mormon highschool dropout was clearly already in over his head, clinging to Ryan and greeting Patrick and Pete a little too enthusiastically, if that was even possible after witnessing Gerard in his glory. Ryan had a cool composure about him, steering Brendon away from them before they had an incident involving beer being spilled on the people that were basically their career lifeline at this point. “Sorry about him,” Ryan sighed, almost sounding bored. He gave Patrick’s forearm a squeeze with his free hand, “Nice to see you guys. The album sounds incredible.” 

Patrick returned the gesture with smiles and thanks, but that was about all he saw of the two of them for the rest of the night. Bathroom or bunk, Patrick didn’t know, but it was two less people that required his attention.

Patrick sighed in relief to find a scotch had made its way into his hands, knowing Joe must’ve snuck a drink into his grasp somewhere between Gerard giving out free kisses and Brendon sloshing beer around. He took a moment to close his eyes and take a decent sip from his cup, savouring it. 

Patrick’s eyes snapped open, narrowed, feeling Pete’s bottomless eyes on him. “What?” Patrick snarled.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking it must be a record. It’s been, what, 15 minutes? Already thinking of your escape plan?” Pete teased him, poking him in the side.

Patrick rubbed his ribs, annoyed. “I’m enjoying my scotch and taking a moment. The plan hasn’t even crossed my mind… _yet_.” Patrick couldn’t help but crack a smile for Pete. He let Pete knead his fingers into his upper back between his shoulder blades, relaxing a little as he cradled his Scotch. 

Luckily, the party picked up and rolled on without too much demand, allowing Patrick to down his scotch in peace. Joe, with his impeccable timing, showed up just as Patrick was looking around for the liquor table. He pressed a new drink into Patrick’s hand and passed Pete three of the six shots he was holding in his other hand. So precarious. Patrick pictured Joe as a world renowned bartender in a past life. “Gotta keep up,” Joe grinned. “To… us? Cheers.”

“Thanks, man! Cheers!” Pete held up his shots one at a time to Joe, bumped the base of each glass on a nearby windowsill and downing his shots with the guitarist. 

Patrick watched them make poor decisions in synch with amusement before scanning the room. “ _Lots_ of bad decisions tonight.” He confirmed to himself, turning back to the boys.

Joe caught wind and patted Patrick on the back, grinning, “Come on, ‘Trick, glass half _full!_ Oh, wait, actually, glass is _completely_ _empty_.” Joe laughed and swapped Patrick’s glass with a third cup full of scotch. 

Patrick just stared at Joe in disbelief. How was he even doing that? “Were you a bartender in a past life?”

“Guess we’ll never know. Isn’t that the fun part?” Joe raised his eyebrows in suggestion and enjoyment before his attention was stolen. “Incoming,” he alerted Patrick, and then he was gone. Back to the drink table to work more fake bartending magic, Patrick supposed. 

William, one of Patrick’s closest friends from this weird little pop-punk family, sauntered up with his skin tight shirt taught across his stomach, revealing his sharp hips. His skinny-jean-bell-bottom pants hugged his hips even more and it gave off that ethereal twink aura that Patrick could only dream of. Despite any and all of Patrick’s insecurities, Bill had been consistently and genuinely kind to him. 

He watched William greet Pete with a hug and congratulations, pondering about him over his scotch. Honestly, Patrick could never hold William’s beauty against him. And besides, he knew William was a Good One because of the involuntary smile he brought upon Patrick’s face whenever he caught sight of Bill. “Hey, babe.” he greeted warmly, embracing William.

“Hey, cutie,” William chirped in reply, patting Patrick’s hair fondly. He gasped and pulled back abruptly before running both of his hands through Patrick’s hair. He had a complete lack of understanding for personal space, but Patrick just laughed. “Oh my god, are you using a new shampoo? So _soft._ Wait, no, nevermind. Don’t answer that. I’m supposed to be introducing you two to my newest friends!” He wiggled his eyebrows in anticipation and excitement at Pete and Patrick. “They’re just arriving now, I told them to come find us right away. Yes! There they are! Guys, meet Cobra Starship.” 

Walking through the crowd and making their way towards the three of them was a group of 5, looking cool and even somewhat flawless as their collective energy made waves of interested whispers break out among the partiers. After the initial shock of their togetherness, Patrick then realized that one of the five of them was a _woman_. Personally, he thought that was badass. 2005 was a depressingly dry year for women in pop-punk. Already, his interests were piqued, and his nerves were off the rails. He quickly downed his third scotch, readying himself for what was about to be an interesting pitch if anything. 

Patrick was surveying the crew--a goofy looking guy with a long nose, a short man with big eyes whose arm was linked with a taller man with dark hair and darker frames, a pale woman with a black bob wearing a pushup, and a toned, bronzed man who towered over him with his latino curls and cutting grin--when Pete audibly gasped. Patrick looked over in confusion, realizing he had locked his gaze with the cocky latino. 

“No _way.”_ Pete’s face broke into a 1000 watt smile. “William, you _sly!_ You failed to mention-” Pete was visibly amped up, and Patrick was feeling sorely out of the loop. He was ridiculously thankful that Joe had yet again managed to slip him another drink.

“I know, I know. I _do_ like to do my work in mysterious ways.” Bill tapped his temple knowingly at Pete, before biting his lip and sauntering to the bronze man. He teased his fingers into the gaps of his button up, revealing what Patrick could swear were defined pecs. “You know where to find me, papi.” William then turned to the tall dark woman, winking, “You too, pretty lady.” She smacked Bill’s ass as he passed by and he gave a delighted squeak. “See you in a bit, Patrick! Need another drink!” Beckett laughed deviously until he was out of earshot. 

Patrick could feel himself glaring daggers at William’s back for leaving him in these unfamiliar waters until he was dragged back into the conversation, grounded by Pete’s hand on the small of his back. Pete had just gotten finished saying, “Christ, I had no idea you cleaned up so nice, man.” Patrick blinked and looked between the gorgeous crew and Pete, his eyes demanding an explanation. Pete shook his head and grinned. “Come on, ‘Trick. _Midtown!_ Have you never heard of Midtown? Jesus, Gabe and I go _way_ back!” 

Patrick’s mouth made an O shape of recognition as Pete yanked Gabe in for a hug. Right. Gabriel Saporta, former bassist of Midtown. The Gabe standing before him now looked nothing like the tattered t-shirt wearing, sweat soaked punk he had seen in pictures before. No way, this guy was cut by the gods and thrown into his Sunday best for this party. He was practically glowing, for Christ’s sake. Patrick rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly waiting for the embrace to end. He instinctively gripped Pete’s arm for comfort when the hug finally ended.

“Patrick, I’ve heard so much about you. From Bill and Pete alike.” Gabe deadpanned, smirking. “Are you a hugger? Because I am,” Hugger or not, Patrick was already being lifted off the ground. 

He kind of couldn’t help but laugh, patting Gabe’s back in acceptance. “Nice to meet you, Gabe. I haven’t heard much about you. Seems like everyone likes keeping me in the dark.” Patrick said, giving Pete a pointed side-eye as Gabe set him back down.

“If I were Pete? I’d want to keep you in the dark too.” Gabe said suggestively as his eyes raked over Patrick for a moment, sizing him up. He bit his lip before apparently shaking himself out of it. Patrick raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. “Anyway, this is my new crew!” Gabe dropped the sultry act and resumed the charming, smiling one, “Ryland Blackinton, Nate Novarro, Alex Suarez, and Victoria Asher. We’re going for, like, a new-wave pop-punk kind of vibe. You guys will totally get it when you hear it.” The rest of Gabe’s entourage waved hello upon hearing their names, having previously just been chirping among themselves, unbothered.

Pete jumped in, shaking hands and schmoozing easily, “The concept sounds so interesting. You have _got_ to tell us more.” 

Patrick politely introduced himself to the lot of them and then excused himself, promising to bring back more drinks. 

When he got away from the crowd, he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He closed his eyes for a second and counted to 10. Patrick honestly wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to meeting 5 new people at a time, let alone 50. He located Andy, one person he knew he could trust to be sober. “Hey, how are you holding up?” He asked, pouring himself yet another drink and grabbing a few bottles of beer for the rest of them. 

Andy shrugged, unbothered. “Honestly? Spencer, Ray, and The Butcher make for good conversation. I’m surviving.” He chuckled. 

Patrick smiled weakly. Of course, even Andy fit into a circle outside of their band. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. Just needed a breather.” 

Andy nodded solemnly and squeezed his shoulder before Patrick released himself back into the wild. 

Patrick blinked a few times, really starting to feel the liquor warm his belly and cloud his mind. Maybe this was better, anyway. He managed to find his way back to the new crew, where Pete was easily joking along with the Cobras. Well, half of them. Alex and Nate were already missing. Patrick settled himself between Pete and Victoria, greeting them by handing out beers. He sipped his drink as he relaxed into the conversation.

It turned out Victoria was actually quite interesting, chocked full of feminist morale and opinions. Her whole mantra was that if she looked like a sex doll, she would be underestimated, and then she could go in for the kill like a, well, cobra. Everyone thus far had been predictable. And then she blushed and brushed away her words with a light tinkle of laughter. “But I can’t tell you all my tricks, can I, cutie?” She evened out, regaining her social balance. 

Ryland was equally as amusing; apparently he had a whole gag up his sleeve that involved his supposed alter ego, Guy Ripley. That bit kept Pete howling for ages. 

But even then, Victoria eventually slinked away after mentioning her interest in finding Beckett, and Ryland found his way into a conversation with Mike Carden and Joe about 12 string guitars. 

So Patrick was alone with Pete and Gabe. They caught up and reminisced while Patrick gazed about the crowd in a sixth-drink-stupor. It was only when Gabe said his name that he was once again reeled back into the conversation. “Huh?” Patrick responded unintelligently.

Gabe just laughed, amused. “I said, what’s a pretty boy like you doing hanging out with this piece of work?” he elbowed Pete, amused. 

“I have my-” Pete started.

“He has his silver linings.” Patrick finished in time with Pete. He glanced over into those bottomless eyes and smiled shyly, Pete beaming back.

After that, Patrick found that conversation with Gabe actually came pretty naturally. With the group dwindling, alcohol flowing, and the setting more intimate, Patrick had a smaller response time when coming up with things to say. They touched briefly on the details of the record Gabe had imagined on his soul-searching trip to Arizona, but Patrick was pleased to instead find himself just getting to know Gabe instead of hearing some drunken half-pitch. Drinks exchanged hands, and numbers were entered into phones. Around the 10th drink, Patrick couldn’t figure out quite how he got there, but he found himself blushing and giggling, waving off Gabe and leaning back into Pete with his legs sprawled across Gabe’s lap. Pete’s hands were resting on Patrick’s chest and belly, comfortable. 

Gabe laughed and patted Patrick’s legs, looking at Pete and Patrick adoringly. “No, but seriously. I know it’s stupid. But, like, how does it work?”

Pete lazily waved a hand before picking up his drink and leaning his head back to access it. As he set it down, he shrugged. “It’s simple, really. Everyone needs someone. Tour is lonely as shit, you know that. Hell, I can’t imagine how you got on alone all that time. This pop-punk movement.. I don’t know man, but there’s something about it. Everyone _has_ someone this time ‘round. I mean, just look at Gerard and Frank, or Brendon and Ryan- Oh, wait.” Patrick broke out into laughter with Pete and Gabe. 

“Yeah, if they hadn’t left to do what they do best, like, an hour ago.” Patrick snorted. 

Pete snickered against Patrick’s ear, pointing across the room. “See, Gabe? Even your boys are hopping on the bandwagon.” Pete chuckled. 

Gabe’s and Patrick’s gaze followed Pete’s finger, and they spotted Alex and Nate making out on one of the couches. Patrick hiccuped with laughter and Gabe bellowed in mirth. “Guess the heat in the room inspired them,” he joked, unabashed. “So, then, who’ve you got?” Gabe asked them earnestly. 

Pete chortled. “Isn’t that obvious?” he gripped Patrick’s shirt in his hands slightly, Patrick more so in his lap at this point, Pete’s lips finding his neck. He pressed a couple hot kisses to Patrick’s neck.

Patrick flushed deeply, letting out a soft sigh and shuddering. “Pete, not here,” he whined, squirming slightly. 

Pete lifted his head, resting his nose against Patrick’s temple and smirking at Gabe. “Everybody has somebody.”

Gabe tipped back the rest of his drink before nodding as if deciding they could be trusted. “Okay, so listen. I kind of have a thing going with Bill. But, you know, he’s obviously wrapped around Vicky T tonight,” Gabe rolled his eyes, “Plus it’s an open fling and, you know, anyway,” Gabe drunkenly waved his hand as if to straighten out his thoughts. His voice must’ve dropped a whole octave, because it struck a chord deep within Patrick. “It’s just _you,_ Patrick. And you don’t even know it. Quiero hacerte cosas inimaginables,” Gabe licked his lips, his eyes swallowing Patrick. The hand that was innocuously patting his legs was now resting on Patrick’s inner knee. 

Patrick’s lips parted in desire as he gazed at Gabe, his head dazed. He was surely not any more drunk than Pete or Gabe. Pete wasn’t usually one to share, and neither was Patrick. And yet here they were, Patrick’s eyes nearly rolling out of his head at the slightest touch of this heavenly body. Even his foggy brain knew he was about to cash in on the jackpot. He felt himself holding his breath and counting to ten as Pete and Gabe exchanged purposeful glances, and then they were all helping each other up. 

“I think it’s time to call it.” Gabe stated neutrally. 

The afterparty was in a room on the ground floor of the hotel. “Our room is just upstairs.” Pete said nonchalantly, but his hand was on Patrick’s ass. 

\--

After a half dozen half-assed goodbyes and some knowing smirks that Patrick couldn’t bring himself to stress about, the three men managed their way up the elevator and stumbled into the room. Pete’s hand found the entrance light switch and Gabe turned on a lamp, leaving the room somewhat dimmed. When Gabe turned around, Patrick had already grabbed Pete’s shirt and forced it off, kissing him hard. Gabe smirked and palmed at himself through his pants as he watched Pete undo Patrick’s pants and let them drop to the floor. Gabe walked over to them, pressing himself against Patrick’s backside after Patrick had the chance to kick his jeans aside. Gabe gently wrapped his palm around Patrick’s throat from behind as he continued to kiss Pete. He leaned down to kiss Patrick’s neck, his bulge pressing against Patrick’s ass. 

Patrick gasped and moaned involuntarily into Pete’s mouth, already aching with a desire to fulfill a fantasy he hadn’t even realised he’d had until now. 

Pete broke the kiss, smirking at the sight of Gabe’s golden hand wrapped around Patrick’s porcelain throat. “Fuck. _Yes.”_

Pete admired Patrick as he undid his own pants, watching Patrick stumble a little when he let go of him to wrestle with the too-tight jeans. But he was held strong by Gabe, one hand around his throat and the other protectively wrapped around Patrick’s belly from behind. Gabe sunk his pearly teeth against Patrick’s neck, coaxing a moan and the fluttering of his eyelids. He rocked teasingly against Patrick’s ass, his fingers palming at Patrick’s semi-erection through his boxers, pulling another, more assured moan from him.

Gabe released his grip on Patrick’s throat, moving his hands to his hips, guiding him to turn around. He splayed his fingers against the side of Patrick’s neck and leaned down to kiss him, sucking at his bottom lip.

Patrick was sure he was melting in Gabe’s arms, for he never actually stopped to consider how hot it would be to fuck someone so much taller than him and now that he _was_ thinking about it, it was nearly making him see stars. He pushed his hands up Gabe’s shirt, pleasantly surprised to feel how toned his abs were. He wasn’t sure if it were for the fact that Gabe was a stranger, or that he was drunk enough, but he managed to mostly silence the voices comparing his own body to Gabe’s. Patrick slid his hands out from under Gabe’s shirt and started unbuttoning it clumsily, wanting to drink in the oasis of his bronzed chest. 

Gabe chuckled, endearingly brushing away his hands. “I got it, Patrick.” Gabe started unbuttoning his own shirt as Pete’s hands made contact with Patrick’s hips from behind, sliding up his sides and coaxing the shirt off of a slightly unwilling Patrick.

Patrick let himself gaze at Pete and Gabe, both in their boxers and both hot in different ways. Pete had tattoos for days, and Gabe’s chest and stomach was a limitless expanse that would be perfect for doing body shots off of. “You’re… gorgeous,” Patrick complimented Gabe dumbly, pushing his hand sheepishly through his own sandy locks.

“I think you’re talking about yourself, actually,” Gabe smirked and grabbed Patrick’s hips. Patrick gasped before he even wrapped his head around the fact that Gabe was able to lift him with ease. He had never realized how ridiculously hot it was to be picked up and thrown onto a bed like that. 

Pete chuckled in admiration, nodding to Gabe in respect and climbing onto the bed between Patrick’s legs. He kissed him hard and slipped his tongue between his lips for a moment before pulling back to ease off Patrick’s boxers. He wrapped his fingers around Patrick’s aching cock and lazily stroked him while he reached for the lube and condoms he’d put in the bedside table earlier. Pete being Pete was always prepared, after all. He put them on the bed beside Patrick’s shoulder, now pumping Patrick’s erection with a renewed fervour, his free hand running down Patrick’s chest as his thumb slid over the head of his cock. 

Gabe climbed onto the bed to the right side of Pete and Patrick, lying on his stomach and replacing Pete’s hand with his own. He didn’t miss a beat as he lowered his head, taking Patrick’s dick into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the head. 

Patrick moaned and arched slightly towards Gabe’s warm mouth while Pete reached for the lube, palming at himself through his boxers. He squirted some onto his fingers, slicking them up. 

Gabe pulled back just in time to catch Pete spreading Patrick’s ass, letting out a low sigh and murmuring, “ _Fuck,_ that’s _hot.”_ He dipped his head back down, this time taking the full length of Patrick’s dick and smirking around him when he felt Patrick shudder and let out a breathy little moan. 

Gabe bobbed his head dutifully as Pete pressed his pointer finger into Patrick’s asshole, easing it in until it was a knuckle deep, then two, then twisting it before easing back out and in again. He smirked, greedily watching Patrick as he squirmed between Pete’s finger and Gabe’s mouth. Soon, Pete was adding his middle finger into the mix, slowly stretching Patrick open as Gabe sucked him off, one of his hands massaging Patrick’s balls. 

Patrick bit his lip, his hands finding Pete’s arm and Gabe’s hair and he clenched down on both, arching his back slightly from the stimulation. He was on the edge of coming, moaning openly, when Pete eased out his fingers and Gabe pulled back his head. Both of them were smirking and they took a good look at Patrick, appreciating his soft, flushed skin.

Pete pushed his boxers down and kicked them off, grabbing the lube but not a condom.

Gabe raised his eyebrow. “What are the condoms for, then?”

“You.” Pete grinned smugly.

“Ah, so there _is_ a line,” Gabe said approvingly, “I respect that.” 

Pete lubed up his aching cock, squeezing Patrick’s inner thigh in anticipation. He pressed on his milky thigh, having him subconsciously spread his legs some more. Pete admired Patrick’s pink ass for a moment before pressing the tip of his cock against his stretched hole, eliciting moans from both of them. 

Gabe was now kneeled beside Patrick’s head and Patrick reached up to grib Gabe’s forearm for support. He let out a whine and exposed his throat as Pete carefully slid into Patrick’s asshole, one hand digging it’s nails into his thigh, the other pressing it’s fingertips against the rim to help ease his cock in. 

Gabe let Patrick grip onto his arm, pushing his own boxers down and pumping his fist around his heavy erection as he watched Patrick’s cheeks grow pinker. Patrick gasped as he turned his head, partly from Pete slowly easing back out and then thrusting in again, partly from the sight of just how big Gabe’s dick was. Patrick’s jaw slacked slightly and his eyes grew hungry. He let go of Gabe’s arm in order to knock his hand out of the way and replace it with his own. Patrick willed himself not to drool at the sight of Gabe’s throbbing cock in his small hand. 

Pete was now rolling his hips, his dick easily sliding inside of Patrick, slick with lube. He started thrusting harder, his hands possessively holding Patrick’s hips as he fucked into him, grunting.

Patrick’s eyes rolled back a little, angling his hips up and groaning. He made eye contact with Gabe, eyes crazy in his drunken frenzy. Gabe’s eyes matched Patrick’s intensity but they were dark and velvety and not piercing in the same way as Patrick’s. “Fuck my mouth,” Patrick requested, moaning as Pete fucked his asshole.

Gabe’s jaw dropped much in the way Patrick’s had, before he quickly regained his composure and grunted in assent, smirking and letting Patrick guide his dick into his mouth. 

Gabe let Pete dictate the pace, his angular hips rhythmically forcing Patrick’s body towards Gabe’s cock. After a few seconds, he opposed the pace, rolling towards Patrick in time with Pete’s thrusts. He eased Patrick into it, but something told him Patrick could handle himself. 

Patrick moaned wildly around Gabe’s cock, his eyes rolling back whenever Pete grazed Patrick’s prostate while Gabe simultaneously hit the back of his throat. 

Patrick was so overstimulated and well taken care of, he had honestly forgotten to use his hands and was currently just gripping the sheets. When he willed himself to work his fingers, one hand grabbed hold of Gabe’s asscheek, digging his nails into his skin in response to his performance. The other hand found his own dick, and _god,_ he was so close. He pumped his fist around his member, pushing the tip of this thumb against the head and arching, groaning as he came onto his own stomach without warning. Patrick clenched around Pete’s cock as he fucked into him hard, once, twice more. Gabe gripped his dick and tapped it against Patrick’s swollen bottom lip a few times before pulling back. 

Pete carefully eased his length out of Patrick’s ass while Gabe gently stroked Patrick’s locks out of his face. “I hope you don’t think we’re done, encantador,” Gabe buzzed. 

“Oh, no. I was just getting started,” Patrick said breathlessly, grinning and sighing dazedly. 

Patrick wiped his fingers on the sheets and rolled out of the way. Pete positioned himself on his back, pulling Patrick to straddle him. He ran his hands down Patrick’s back, squeezing ass and spreading his cheeks. Patrick whined softly, wrapping his hand around Pete’s cock and stroking lazily, his knuckles dragging against Pete’s stomach.

Pete was still spreading Patrick’s ass wide when Gabe had rolled on a condom and slicked up his cock with plenty of lube. He purred in appreciation at the sight, resting a hand on the crook of Patrick’s back and using the other to guide his cock. He slid the head of his erection down Patrick’s cleft, teasing it at the hole, repeating the motion a few times. 

Patrick whined and pressed his ass back, needy and already so stretched for him. 

Gabe chuckled and slapped Patrick’s ass, bringing his arm back down and using the back of his hand to spank the other side. He started pressing his aching cock into Patrick’s ass, groaning and gripping his hips as Patrick impressively took the full length. 

Patrick’s eyes fluttered. Gabe was thick, but he was also longer than average. No shade towards Pete, but he had the perfect cock. Patrick arched into Pete slightly, his hand caught between them and still wrapped around Pete’s dick. He dropped his face and kissed Pete deeply, parting his lips almost immediately to let Pete’s tongue tease it’s way into his mouth. He moaned into Pete’s mouth as Gabe pulled back and then fucked in again, using Patrick’s hips for leverage. He easily created a rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of Patrick’s stretched asshole. 

Patrick nipped at Pete’s lip before craning his neck back at the demand of Gabe’s hand in his hair, moaning openly as Gabe fucked into him roughly. 

Then Gabe abruptly let go of Patrick’s hair, letting him drop back to Pete and pulling his cock out. 

Patrick groaned as Gabe removed his length and then, supporting himself with his hands on the bed behind Pete’s head, sat up a little and angled himself above Pete’s cock. He slid down onto Pete with ease, so stretched from Gabe’s member. Pete drew a sharp breath and moaned as Patrick started rolling his hips, letting him do the work and fuck himself on Pete’s dick. 

Pete made eye contact with Gabe and smirked, grabbing Patrick’s hips in his hands as Gabe pressed against Patrick, his cock twitching against the small of Patrick’s back and his hand once against sliding around his throat. This time he squeezed at the sides of Patrick’s neck, choking him, leaning his head down to nip his earlobe, and rocking against his back. Patrick’s eyes rolled back and he let himself lean back into Gabe’s strong arms, reaching around to pump at Gabe’s dick, moaning as Gabe choked him and as Pete bruised his hips, now fucking wildly up into Patrick. They had definitely sweat out a substantial amount of alcohol, but Patrick was being fucked so well that he had lost all inhibitions either way. Sure, he’d blame it on the alcohol in the morning, but right now all bets were off. Patrick locked eyes with Gabe, whining as Pete kept fucking into him. “Spit in my mouth,” Patrick demanded, his eyes flitting again. 

Gabe raised an eyebrow and grinned evilly. “You’re something nasty, Stump,” he growled, pursing his lips before spitting into Patrick’s half-parted lips. His saliva caught Patrick’s teeth, lower lip, and chin and Gabe leaned down and kissed Patrick hard, pushing his tongue into his mouth before biting Patrick’s lower lip. 

Pete moaned at the sight of Patrick letting loose, so turned on. As his hips slowed, Gabe finally released his grip on Patrick’s throat and Patrick lifted himself off of Pete’s cock, sighing blissfully. He settled back down to rest against Pete, kissing him earnestly and letting Pete run his fingers through his hair as Gabe prepared himself to enter Patrick again.

Gabe and Pete took turns fucking Patrick like that for a couple more rounds, spitting in his mouth, into his wide-stretched asshole, and spanking his ass. They fulfilled Patrick’s desires with all caution thrown to the wind. With Pete’s cock stuffed deep in Patrick’s ass and Gabe’s tongue swirling around the rim of Patrick’s hole and against Pete’s cock, Patrick reached for Gabe’s hair with intent. “Gabe,” he moaned, “ _Gabriel.”_ He tugged at his dark curls. 

Gabe lifted his head, biting a kiss onto Patrick’s asscheek as Pete fucked up into him. “What can I do for you, hmm?” he purred. 

“I want you… to fuck me… _now,”_ Patrick moaned, _“_ I want both of you. At once.” 

He would come to find that friendship with Gabe was easy and effortless, but that it was nearly impossible to surprise both Pete and Gabe at once - one of them was _always_ in on it. He was pleased that this request evoked small delighted gasps from both of the larger men. 

“My pleasure,” Gabe said in a velvety voice, sitting up.

As Gabe lubed himself up even more, Pete and Patrick casually rocked their hips together, Pete’s hand gently finding Patrick’s cheek. “Are you sure about this?” He asked softly, only out of concern that Patrick was in over his head. 

Patrick looked at Pete with purpose. “Positive,” he promised. 

That’s all Pete needed. He pulled Patrick into a deep kiss while Gabe finished prepping himself and grunted when the head of Gabe’s cock pressed against Patrick’s hole as well as his own member. 

Gabe used his thumb to slowly guide the tip inside of Patrick’s asshole until he was able to steadily push in beside Pete, causing them all to collectively groan. 

Patrick reached back with both hands, spreading his ass for the two of them, his cheek resting against Pete’s chest. Pete raked his fingers over Patrick’s back and Gabe gripped his hips as Pete and Gabe simultaneously started rocking up into Patrick. It didn’t take long for them to establish a rhythm, grunting and panting in concentration and delight. Gabe bit his lip as he thrusted his hips, their timing gradually skewing so that they were taking turns fucking into Patrick. 

Patrick gasped and moaned when Gabe thrust in particularly hard, hitting his prostate. “Holy fuck, right there, right _there,”_ Patrick groaned, his voice raw. 

Pete continued to fuck Patrick, Gabe following each movement with gradually more intense thrusts. They steadily continued ruining an already completely disheveled Patrick, making him come undone even more with each movement. Patrick cried out more desperately each time Gabe hit his prostate until he was clawing at Pete’s shoulders and hair. He moaned and shook as he came harder than the first time, his dick caught between his and Pete’s stomach. His cock throbbed as he repeatedly clenched around Gabe and Pete, who were still fucking him with fervour. Patrick gasped and arched his back, melting into Pete each time Gabe continued to hit his prostate. 

Gabe came next, groaning deeply and sliding his hands up Patrick’s spine, his dick twitching inside of his asshole against Pete’s dick. His hands glided back to Patrick’s hips as he came down, slowly rolling his hips against Patrick’s ass. 

Finally, with a gasp and a choked noise, Pete came last, thrusting up hard into Patrick and filling his ass with cum with the privilege of not using protection. Patrick groaned at the warmth, shuddering and pressing his ass back against the two cocks that filled him.

Hips slowed and the panting breaths subdued. Gabe rubbed circles with his thumb into the base of Patrick’s spine as he gently eased himself out of Patrick’s ass. Then Patrick lifted his hips and out slid Pete’s cock. A trickle of cum followed, dripping from Patrick’s gaping asshole. He closed his eyes and moaned softly at the sensation of the cool air against his wrecked body after rolling off of Pete and onto his stomach, face pressed into the downy bed. 

Pete smirked and ran his hands over Patrick’s backside, spreading his ass once more just so that he and Gabe could get a good look at their handiwork. “That’s fucking hot,” Pete informed the room, before moving his hands to rub Patrick’s back. Eventually Patrick rolled onto his side and Pete ended up nestling himself against Patrick’s back, wrapping a protective arm around him. Gabe lay parallel to them on his back, his head turned to face both of them. He smiled dazedly, ridiculously satisfied. 

Patrick reached out lazily and pushed his fingers through Gabe’s curls, smiling softly. “Thanks for that.”

“For what,” Gabe playfully nipped at the palm of Patrick’s hand, “Making a grand entrance?”

“Something like that, I’d say,” Pete spoke, chuckling. 

Patrick rolled his eyes and smiled. “Yeah, something like that.” 

Gabe just grinned evilly, his eyes mystical, “Oh, Patrick, we’re going to be such good friends.” 


End file.
